


The Chapter

by LiamLogan



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blood, College AU, Drugs, F/M, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Prinxiety - Freeform, Trans Character, Trans Male Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Trans Male Character, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-17 18:50:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19960975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiamLogan/pseuds/LiamLogan
Summary: Virgil comes from an affluent family but has moderate social anxiety and struggled to make friends, coupled with Roman who lives in a rough area but is popular and friendly. They contrast, but quickly become good friends. When Roman is exposed to one of Virgil's secrets, all heaven and hell breaks loose for them both.





	The Chapter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhizzerMyMan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhizzerMyMan/gifts).



> Trigger warnings: homophobia (including but not limited to internalised), blood, death, violence, deadname for trans character, and drugs. Enjoy :)

Virgil avoided the mirror as he rushed past the hallway in his house; he didn’t even need to look at himself to know that it was going to be a bad day. In his mind, he knew that his shirt _wasn’t_ as tight-fitting as it seemed, and that his face _wasn’t_ as round as it looked, and that his entire stature wasn’t as _bad_ as the mirror reflected, but his heart burned with doubts and fear. He tugged on the hem of his shirt to make it looser, hiding his body within its fabrics, and tried desperately to make his demeanour more masculine, but the fear inside just made him want to curl up and cry. Nevertheless, he picked up his backpack, fiddled with the zip, and absconded out the door.

As Virgil took his seat, he noticed the absence of almost everybody else, except for a small group of girls a few seats over from him, and Roman sat alone just two rows in front of him. Roman was practically the head of the jocks, almost a polar opposite of Virgil, and he seemed to have it all: he was popular, good-looking, and he seemed to be friendly enough – Virgil hadn’t ever spoken to him, but from how he noticed him interact with everyone else, he seemed nice. He was quite smart, too, definitely the best in his group of friends (it wasn’t particularly difficult to be so, but it was still something).

The song in Roman’s head was replaying incessantly to the point of frustration, but he couldn’t figure out what the tune was. He tapped it out on his knee, but there was still no sense of familiarity that helped him remember what it was. He felt eyes watching him from behind. He turned to see someone staring at him – he was dressed all in black and had ripped jeans revealing pale skin beneath – but before he could get a good look at him, he turned away. Roman found himself strangely charmed by his fidgety and awkward demeanour, so, smiling, he climbed up the row to sit with him, but he tried to shuffle away. Roman had to think quickly to say something to stop him before he could escape. But his train of thought was interrupted by apologetic stuttering.

“Oh, I’m so sorry – oh sorry – I didn’t… I didn’t know you wanted to sit here – I’ll just move, I’m sorry.” His voice was very quiet, but as he reached for his backpack to move, he had forgotten that it was unzipped, causing everything in it to fall out and scatter across the aisle. It certainly was lucky that there was almost nobody else around to see. Roman looked at him, and he’d gone from a pale and ghostly shade of white to an almost unreal red.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I wanted to sit _with_ you, not _instead of_ you!” -Roman laughed, helping him gather the fallen books. He pretended not to see him quivering as he dashed for one in particular (Roman couldn’t see what was so special about it; it seemed to have a regular plastic cover on it and also looked cheap, but his new friend seemed terrified of losing it). Roman, upon seeing that he had calmed down, handed back the books that had fallen on his side, and tried to supress a smile at his flustered ‘thank you’.

“What’s your name?” He asked.

“Sorry?”

“Your name? I’m Roman!” He smiled, reaching out his hand tentatively. Meekly, Virgil took it, and they shared in a handshake. He was gentle, he barely even touched Roman, but still he seemed to flinch away. Then, Logan entered. He was nice enough, an excellent lecturer, but it meant that any interaction from that point forward was forbidden. In an instant, Roman and Virgil sat down, and the other group fell silent. Even from up where they were sat, Roman saw Logan smile (either at the silence, or lack of students, he wasn’t sure).

“Hello, everyone, thanks for so many of you attending today. I presume you all read to chapter seven like instructed?” He asked, his voice projecting through the near-empty auditorium and creating an echo that, to nobody’s notice except Roman’s, made Virgil shiver. As if a flip had been switched in his head, Roman remembered that, just a week prior, they had been instructed to read another chapter and that he had neglected to do so.

A minute had passed when Virgil looked over at Roman and saw the panic in his eyes. It was a risky move, but Virgil retrieved a loose sheet of paper from his backpack and wrote on it.

_Did you do the reading? Blink twice if no._ It said. He folded it in half and silently handed it to Roman, who unfolded it but did not divert his gaze from the professor at the front. He lowered the paper so as not to be seen, and read it slowly. Then, heavily and deliberately, he blinked twice. Virgil reached into his backpack once more, but accidentally pulled out his diary, which he shoved back in before Roman could see it. He felt himself turn red. He reached in again, and finally found what he was looking for: the book with his notes. He turned to the page with the most comprehensive and detailed summary and lowered it onto the floor between the two, and he noticed Roman smile slightly as he skimmed through it.

The lecture was an hour and a half long, but having Virgil next to him made it seem like only a few minutes. Reading through his notes on the book he hadn’t read, and watching him from the corner of his eye turn red at almost anything, Roman felt strangely compelled to stay with him after they’d all been dismissed. They walked down the steps together in silence, but as soon as they’d reached the bottom Virgil scuttled away like a beetle with his shoulders hunched forwards and his arms folded over a different notebook across his chest, begging the question of how many notebooks he actually had.

“Virgil, wait!” He called. He startled and nearly dropped his notebook again, but Virgil did stop and turn back to him.

“I don’t have friends today, so do you mind if I sit with your group?” He asked.

“Gentlemen, class has been dismissed,” interrupted Logan from his desk, his eyes fixated on the screen of his laptop, “and there is a maze of corridors in which you can converse.”

“Sorry, Logan, come on, Virgil!” He put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders and led him outside into the corridor, where he was promptly released. Virgil shuddered.

“Roman, I should tell you that I don’t really… I don’t really have a ‘group’ for you to sit with either… Sorry.” He muttered, fidgeting with his hands. His eyes were staring intently at the floor, and he seemed to be trying not to cry, but Roman hesitated to point that out, fearful of making him even worse.

“Oh, that’s okay,” he said, making a concerted effort to lower his voice in the busy corridor so nobody else would hear him, “we can just find somewhere quiet and sit together.”

“Okay, I’d like that.” Virgil smiled. When he noticed Roman’s eyes lingering on him for just a moment longer, he blushed and smiled even wider.

Virgil was not that much shorter than Roman (if he stood up straight, they may even be the same height, but Virgil simply couldn’t do that), but Roman’s loud and bright personality made navigating the corridors much easier and less stress-inducing for Virgil. Roman led him to a small lecture theatre, more like a classroom in a school than a hall in a university, and was relieved to find it both unlocked and empty. They sat together on one of the seats on the bottom row.

“What happened to all your friends today?” Virgil asked.

“The same thing that happened to most of the people in our lecture, they all went to Remus’s party last night and all did some things they probably regret already – even my best friend, Dee, even though I told him not to, I warned him that Remus hangs out with some pretty nasty people, but whatever. I still haven’t heard back from him or anyone else.”

“What, they drank _that_ much? All of them? All that alcohol must have cost a lot of money.”

“Virgil, you sweet innocent soul… It wasn’t _just_ alcohol, and it definitely wasn’t just them all feeling hungover, but if you can’t figure it out from there, I don’t want to have to explain. Let’s just say, you’re lucky you didn’t go.”

“I wasn’t invited.” Virgil interjected. Roman felt his heart sink. Before he could say anything, Virgil spoke again. “Why didn’t _you_ go? I presume it wasn’t to read the chapter?”

“Wow, I didn’t think you were capable of saying something as mean as that-” Roman replied, and while his manner was jovial, Virgil interjected once more.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so rude!” His voice grew higher as he spoke, as if he was running out of breath. He coughed and brought his hand up to his neck (to Roman, it didn’t seem like a conscious action, but definitely a strange one) to bring his voice back down before everything could go wrong.

“Hey, I was just joking, don’t worry about it!” Roman laughed as he scoured in his mind for an excuse, more like a lie, that wasn’t that he wanted to stay home reading fanfiction.

“I… I guess I knew it wouldn’t end well and wouldn’t want to do anything stupid like almost everyone else there.”

“A responsible decision.” Virgil commented.

“Thanks.”

“Not responsible enough to read the chapter, though.”

When the lunch period was over, the two meandered back to Logan’s next lecture. Virgil tried to ignore the confused glances cast his way as he walked by Roman’s side, and he tugged the hem of his shirt again to make it appear looser again. Roman noticed all the looks, from confusion to malice, aimed at Virgil, and made an effort to shoot looks of anger at them; he could tell Virgil was anxious, and knew that people staring was the last thing he needed. They opened the door to an almost-empty room, save for Logan at his desk as always.

“Oh, someone showed up.” He sighed, pressing his fingertips to his temples.

“Are we late?” Asked Virgil.

“No, in fact you’re actually two minutes early according to my watch, but I don’t think anyone else will come today. Take a seat for now, gentlemen… I suppose if you’re the only two here I might have to cancel the lecture and reschedule; it wouldn’t be fair on everyone else.” Roman noticed Virgil beaming, but while he held his hand up to his mouth to cover it, his eyes were sparkling and smiling in their own special way. They sat together once more.

“In our collective defence, they _chose_ not to turn up and we did, if you did the lecture could we maybe get extra credit or something?”

“I like your thinking, Roman!” Logan exclaimed with delight – a tone most unusual for someone as robotic as himself. “I’ll cut the lecture a bit shorter so we can leave early, but you’ll still get extra credit for dedication to the class.”

“Sounds good to me!”

The lecture, as promised, was a short one that only lasted thirty minutes, and it was also one of the most enjoyable ones of the year. With almost nobody else around to judge him, Virgil had offered to answer some of Logan’s questions, and even ask some of his own. He also got to watch Roman assiduously take notes and offer some of his own insight into the book they were reading (which, considering he had only Virgil’s notes and his own whim, were rather erudite).

“Class dismissed!” Logan said cheerfully when he thought they’d done enough. The two youths packed their stuff away and made to leave, but just as they got to the door, Logan called one of them back.

“Virgil, just a moment, can I have a word please?” Virgil turned back and approached Logan, his heart pounding and his hand quivering. His knees felt weak and his breathing had become impossibly even lighter and irregular. He tried to control himself so as not to make Logan concerned.

“Am I in trouble?” He asked. His voice cracked.

“Of course not, you just left something behind this morning and I only remembered now to give it back to you.”

“Oh okay,” Virgil felt relief rush through him, he could breathe better now, but his hands were still shaking, “What was it?”

“A notebook which seems to show how much you’ve studied the book, I’d hate for you to lose something as good as this. Why was it on the floor, open to this page?” He asked, his suspicions clear in his tone of voice. Virgil had to think quickly to keep himself and Roman out of trouble.

“When I… Before you came in this morning, I dropped all my stuff on the floor and Roman helped pick everything up but I guess he forgot that, or didn’t see it, maybe. Thanks for giving it back to me though…”

“Of course. That was all.” With that, Virgil scurried out through the door in a rush, but was surprised to see Roman leaning against the opposite wall.

“Is everything okay?” He asked instinctually.

“Yeah, I was just waiting for you.”

“For me?”

“That’s what friends do!” He replied cheerfully. Virgil felt himself blush again and tried to suppress a smile. Nervously, he approached him and they walked together.

In silence they walked until they were off the campus and waiting at the bus stop, and that’s when Roman turned to Virgil and finally broke the excruciating quiet.

“So where did your friends go today?” He asked. Virgil went pale.

“What do you mean?”

“You said that you didn’t have a group today, what happened to them?”

“I never had any…” He said quite honestly. He wasn’t prepared to go into detail, but his answer was true enough.

“What? Someone as cool as you?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m cool, but yeah.” He shuffled his feet and tried not to make his discomfort obvious to Roman who, unbeknown to Virgil, noticed it anyway.

“What did Logan want?” He asked, hastily changing the subject. They continued like that for another five minutes, making small talk and Virgil trying not to show his embarrassment and Roman seeing his efforts and then talking about something else until it all started again. The bus finally arrived, they got on and sat next to each other again, and the cycle continued for ten minutes, until Virgil got off and walked back home. Roman sat in silence alone, put his earphones in, but played no music so as to remain vigilant; it wouldn’t be the first time neglecting his surroundings cost him, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to suffer it again.

The bus reached the last stop, and it was almost dark by the time Roman had gotten onto his street. It wouldn’t be long until he’d be home and he’d be safe, but Roman had learnt the hard way that a lot can change in the minutes between now and his house. He strode forward, feigning confidence, and listened all over, but everything was silent. He still dared not look behind him, knowing it would only be seconds until he reached home. Suddenly, he felt a shove from behind him, a _strong_ shove, enough to send him plummeting to the ground. He scraped his hands as he tried to catch himself, but the fear within him was the most painful.

“Get out my way, homo.” A deep voice muttered, as he felt himself getting kicked in the chest, just below the neck. He shuffled to the side to avoid another beating as the stranger passed without another word. He didn’t want to fight back; despite everything, Roman couldn’t bring himself to hurt another person even if they started it. He stayed there for another few minutes as he levelled his breathing before standing up, brushing himself down, and regaining composure so as not to be too surreptitious. The rest of the walk home was uneventful.

As soon as he’d eaten, Virgil rushed upstairs to his computer, hoping Patton wouldn’t be mad at him. He checked his Skype and saw two missed video calls, and three unread messages.

_Good morning, Virgil!_ Read the first one. Like every morning, he received the same message. It didn’t mean it warmed his heart any less simply because he’d received over a hundred by now. There was a missed call a few hours later.

_Has your internet cut out or something?_ Read the next, not long after the missed call. Another one was half an hour after that.

_Is everything okay?_ Read the last one, and then nothing. Virgil called him immediately, and Patton picked up in an instant.

“Virgil! Are you okay?” He exclaimed, his voice muffled through the bad quality microphone, but coherent enough.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for not calling you at lunch, I got kind of busy.”

“Busy? But you never do anything! What happened?”

“Well...” Virgil tried to explain without implying that Roman had been prioritised over Patton. Patton waited expectantly.

“Was there a dog that you got to pet?” He joked, “in which case, I would totally understand.”

“No, not a dog – and not a cat, before you ask,” Virgil smiled, at peace now that he was with his friend, “a person. A guy. A friend.”

“A new friend?” Patton asked. Virgil noticed, through Patton’s thick glasses, that he blinked heavily and rapidly, and forced down the thought that he could be confused or jealous or upset. He asked himself why he’d be any of those things; Patton is his friend and should be happy for him, and that he just gets anxious sometimes, so everything is fine.

“Yeah, his name is Roman. He’s in my literature class and he sat with me during our lectures, and at lunch, too.”

“So you didn’t message me because you were talking to Roman?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I should have at least messaged you but I barely got a moment to myself.”

“It’s okay, Virgil, I’m happy for you! I really am!” Patton grinned. Even through a computer screen and hundreds of miles, that smile was contagious.

“Oh, thanks, I guess?”

“Now tell me every single detail! How did you meet?” And Virgil proceeded to tell the exact story, every detail as demanded, and tried not to smile too visibly and tried not to be flustered when he told Patton how Roman got him extra credit too obviously. Patton squeaked with glee at some parts, making Virgil blush, because he knew what question would come as soon as the story ended.

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah, sure, nobody else except for you has really talked to me that much before so I guess I need him as my friend considering I have nobody else.” Virgil replied, knowing it wasn’t what Patton meant, but not caring. He also knew that Patton wouldn’t push the question after an answer like that, but he didn’t know how he’d respond. He wasn’t sure if he did like him _like that_ , or if he was just so caught up in the euphoria of having a friend, he couldn’t help but instantly become attached.

“That’s great! I hope you stay friends, he seems nice.”

“Yeah, he does.”

Back at Roman’s house, he was relieved to find no strangers at home (like most things, it wouldn’t be the first time). He turned on the light and examined himself; his hands were grazed and stung, but nothing too bad, but where he got kicked near the clavicle was in agony, he couldn’t even put his hand on it, it hurt that badly. He sighed, the left side of his chest erupted in more pain, but he continued as if he felt nothing – it wasn’t as if he hadn’t suffered worse. He tried to make some coffee, but as he was boiling the water he’d remembered he’d ran out two days ago, and that the milk was out of date anyway. He looked around the bare kitchen, his eyes searching for something edible, before he resorted to the fridge. Opening it, he found a block of cheese, some eggs, and a bag of potatoes. He made an omelette, but wasn’t happy about it. He searched every corner of the house in search of something someone may have left behind that could add to his food, but it really did seem that nothing was left now. He shuddered, but was grateful that he had at least this meal.

Late at night, long after Roman had finished eating, he was lying in bed alone and cold after hours of trying and failing to sleep, when he heard shouting from outside. At first, he pulled a pillow over his head to try to block out the noise and go to sleep, but it was to no avail. He conceded and instead listened to the argument, which seemed to grow more and more intense with every word.

“Where’s the rest?”

“That’s all of it.”

“No it isn’t! You know the drill, now pay up!” The voice yelled, clearly agitated.

“I’m not doing shit, and-” The voice, despite growing louder, was promptly cut off by the sound of a bang. A gunshot. Then a cry of pain, and another gunshot, then silence. While Roman was momentarily terrified, he remembered that this wasn’t unusual in this part of town, tried not to think about his old life, and went back to sleep, comforted only by the fact that he wasn’t the one outside.

_Guess what stupid thing I’ve done_ texted Virgil to Patton (partly to try to make up for not messaging him the day before, but partly because he wanted someone to talk to, and he didn’t have any way to contact Roman yet).

_What did you do now?_ He replied almost instantly, making Virgil think he must have been waiting at his screen for a message. Virgil smiled at the thought. His eyes scanned the lines of his diary to confirm how stupid he’d been, and it was true. He really had done it.

_May or may not have slept in the binder and spent ten hours the day before_

_VIRGIL NO!_

_Virgil maybe_ he replied. It was dangerous to talk about things like that with Patton; although he always had good intentions, he just didn’t understand.

_Take a day off today! Please!_ The next text read. Then another immediately after. _It’ll make me very happy if you did!_

_Well, it IS a Saturday so I don’t have to go outside. Maybe I will._ Virgil changed clothes, wrapped himself in a few layers to ease the dysphoria, and curled up in bed watching the TV. He didn’t have much work to do that couldn’t be done tomorrow, and Logan had given him that extra credit. He knew it was going to be a good day.

Roman woke up and checked his phone. He’d slept late; the library opened half an hour ago and would surely every table would be filled and every computer in use by the time he got there. Still, he shot out of bed and found he was still in yesterday’s clothes. He freshened up with some deodorant and a splash of cold water on the face and rushed out the door within a minute. When he turned the corner, however, he noticed a lump of something on the ground ahead. Thinking it was just a trash bag, he paced past it. It wasn’t until he heard his name that he spun around and saw his friend, Dee, on the ground in a foetal position, a bloody hand clutching his abdomen.

“What the fuck? Dee?”

“Can you call an ambulance?” He whimpered, his teeth clenched and gasping for breath.

“Oh, yeah, sure – what the hell happened?”

“I got shot in the stomach…” The phone rang, and after a few moments, he heard a voice on the other end.

“Hello? My friend… My friend just got – I found him, and he… My friend got shot!”

“What time is it, Roman?” Dee asked. Beyond the blood all over him, Roman saw he was a terrible ghostly white.

“It’s ten, why? When did this happen?” He replied.

“It’s been four hours.”

“He said he’s… He’s been…” He took a deep breath. “It happened four hours ago, we’re just on the corner of Sanders Street… Thank you.” They hung up, and he shoved his phone in his pocket before turning back to Dee, who had tears welling in his eyes. He tried to blink them away, but that only made them fall harder.

“I’m sorry, Roman…” He cried, his voice raspy.

“No, it’ll be okay buddy, you’ll be okay; the ambulance is on its way. Everything will be fine.”

“I should have listened to you, when you said to be careful at the party. I wish I’d stayed with you… We could have done a movie marathon like we used to.”

“It’s okay, we have all the time in the world to do another movie marathon, and everything will be okay.”

“We could have gone to the park and played soccer like we used to when we were kids.”

“Yeah, that was always fun, but there’s still time! You’re going to be fine!”

“Please…” Dee choked, his chest now convulsing rapidly as he struggled for breath, “I don’t want you to lie to me. But promise me something?”

“Anything, Dee, anything you want.” Roman cupped his friend’s head in his hand, trying to hold himself together. Dee rested into his palm, his eyes closing.

“You know I’ve only ever wanted the best for you…” He whispered, his voice cracking. Roman heard sirens in the distance.

“Yeah, and I’ve only wanted the best for you too.”

“You’ll be okay?” He asked, raising his hand from the wound in his stomach, and clenching all his fingers into a fist, except for the little. “Promise?” Roman hooked his little finger with Dee’s. The ambulance turned the corner. Roman watched as the blood oozed out from Dee’s abdomen, a dark crimson colour that he saw, now his hand had moved, painted the roads a similar colour.

“I promise.” Roman suddenly felt the weight of Dee’s hand increase in his own. He could no longer see the convulsing of his chest. His eyes had completely closed. He heard a door slam from behind him. He got shoved to the side and couldn’t even protest, but flinched, expecting another kick like last night. He watched helplessly as Dee was shoved into the ambulance, as if they weren’t too late. He heard rattling, but that was all. Maybe voices, too, but he couldn’t distinguish them from his own thoughts.

“Excuse me, sir?” Someone said. He looked up, and saw a man standing above him, looming over.

“What?”

“I need to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind, actually. My best friend just died, can it wait?”

“Not for long,” he replied, sitting down besides Roman, “a few minutes, really. It shouldn’t take long. What time did you say the injury occurred?”

“I said _not now_!” He stood up and stormed back inside. The library would have to wait for tomorrow. He locked the door and stared at his hands, covered in Dee’s blood – the last he’d ever see of his friend would be this blood staining his skin. His vision became blurry as tears welled up in his eyes. He fell back against the door and slid do the floor, buried his head in his bloody hands, and he sobbed.

Three hours had passed for Virgil and it was now mid-day. He examined the contents of his kitchen and saw a myriad of vegetables, some pasta, and too many herbs to count. He decided, for his day of self-care, he’d go out to eat. He sent a quick message to Patton so he didn’t get nervous like yesterday.

_Going out to eat, so might be gone a while. Don’t worry, not binding but I don’t pass well at all. Hope I don’t get shot lol_.

_Don’t joke about that! You know I get worried about you!_ Patton replied after a minute. Virgil smiled, comforted knowing that someone, somewhere, cared about him, even if they don’t quite get his sardonic humour. He donned a jacket just for an extra layer, then set off without another thought.

Virgil paced down the street thinking about where to eat with an unfamiliar but welcome touch of confidence, but it quickly got shattered by a woman’s voice from behind him, calling a name he hadn’t heard for a few months now.

“Vivian!” He tried to ignore it, knowing Vivian is a common enough name and that he looked very different to how he did just a year ago, but the sound of footsteps running towards him made his blood run cold. He forced his eyes shut and tightened his shoulders as he prepared for what was to come. Sure enough, his old friend jumped and grabbed his shoulders, laughing, before taking him in a hug. He tolerated it, but his breathing quickened and his knees were wobbling so much he thought he was on the verge of collapse.

“Scarlet? It’s been… I’m so… Wow, it feels like forever since I last saw you.” He said, unsure as to whether he should come out or remain safe. It would certainly be one hell of an ice-breaker to start the conversation with ‘I’m transgender, use he/him pronouns and call me Virgil’, but he knew he’d have to explain in the most intricate detail what made him ‘decide’ to be a boy, and if he wanted ‘the surgery’. He decided to just roll with it.

“Oh my fucking god it’s been so long! How’s college been?” She asked tilting her head to the side.

“Great, actually. What about you?”

“Oh, you know, not bad. Got a girlfriend yet?”

“Girlfriend?” He asked, perplexed. He was indeed gay, but not _that_ way.

“Vivian, you’re a lesbian in denial; look at your hair it’s so _butch_ you could get a beautiful femme girlfriend and I could be her best friend!” She laughed, wrapping her arm around Virgil and continuing to walk, her high heels clicking against the concrete.

“That’s more like your fantasy than mine.” He laughed nervously, and felt his cheeks grow warmer and knew his blushing was obvious. He couldn’t help thinking about Roman.

“Oh, I should introduce you to my boyfriend! I’m seeing him tomorrow, I’ll ask him if it’s okay for you to join us and then text you whatever information you need – you still have the same number, right?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Awesome! Nice seeing you! See you tomorrow!” She exclaimed with a wink before spinning on the balls of her shoes and speed-walking away.

Roman finally calmed down enough to get a drink. His heart felt heavy yet empty and his eyes hurt so much from all the crying, but he felt better with a splash of cold water on his face and a drink. It pained him to think, to imagine how Dee suffered for four hours alone clutching his stomach, waiting to die, or waiting for help, and how he had walked past him, not even recognising his best friend, and if Dee hadn’t recognised him from behind, he could have died alone. It pained him more to think about how if he’d kept his hand on the wound to prevent the blood coming out, he may have survived long enough for the ambulance to help, and it was only because he wanted Roman to promise him that he’d be okay. His breathing was shaky, but he kept himself together a little longer. In his pocket, his phone vibrated, startling him half to death and spilling his water all over himself. He checked his texts and saw one from Scarlet. He pondered for a moment as to why she would be messaging him, before remembering he’d agreed to date her a month ago. He knew exactly why, but didn’t want to think about that.

_I know you wanted the date tomorrow just between us but I saw my friend today that I haven’t seen in MONTHS so can she please tag along? You’ll get on with her just fine, she’s shy though so don’t be too imposing!_ The message read as if he actually had a choice, but he knew that, even though she asked him, he actually couldn’t refuse; she’d already made up her mind.

_No problem. Tell her to meet us by Starbucks at 11. What’s her name?_ He answered, despite there being a problem (there were actually many problems, but he couldn’t even begin to comprehend each and every one of them). And as a joke, he sent another.

_And I thought you didn’t trust me with other girls? ;)_

She replied almost instantly.

_Vivian. And I don’t! No girl in their right mind would be able to resist you, but she’s a lesbian (she’s in denial though, lol) but damn boy you could probably turn a guy gay, I trust you :)_

The text was nice enough, and he adored the compliment, but he could only focus on one part of it, the frustrating and agitating part: you could probably turn a guy gay. Part of him despised it, and despised himself, but another part of him hoped it was true. Another part of him couldn’t help but think about Virgil.

Virgil stopped by a café, ordered a black coffee and blueberry muffin, before sitting alone at a table for two and berating himself for his acquiescence. He video-called Patton, who picked up instantly.

“Hey, Pat.” He smiled getting to see his face again. It was always a cathartic experience talking with him.

“Virgil! This is new scenery, are you on your phone?”

“Yeah, I bet it’s nice seeing something other than my bedroom.”

“I didn’t even know you could get Skype on mobile!” He beamed.

“Neither did I, but I really need your help,” he brought his phone closer to him so he wouldn’t have to speak as loudly, “this girl I used to know asked me to hang out with her and her boyfriend tomorrow…”

“That sounds fun, what’s so bad about that?”

“She doesn’t know I’m… She doesn’t know I’m trans.”

“So does she think you’re a girl or a cis guy?”

“She thinks I’m a girl, and her boyfriend will think so too. Do I tell her or what?” The conversation continued for a while, arguing back and forth over which option would be safest and which would be more comfortable, and if comfort was worth the sacrifice of safety, and if there could maybe be a balance between the two. They decided that it was best for Virgil to continue pretending, and hope that Scarlet’s boyfriend didn’t think anything too strange of him.

“Sounds good to me!” Exclaimed Patton when they’d come to that decision.

“I’m glad it sounds good to _you_.” Said Virgil sardonically. He hid his face in his hands (from whom, he couldn’t think), and fought hard not to cry.

Virgil awoke the next morning with a text from Scarlet, telling him to meet at Starbucks at eleven. He felt his heart sink; he’d been hoping she would forget to send the details and that would be excuse enough not to go, but he had even opened the text so he knew it would show as ‘seen’, so now he had no excuse, and (looking at the time) twenty minutes to make a half hour trip. Despite not wanting to even go, he found himself desperate not to be too late, so he sprang out of bed, put on his binder so he wouldn’t need as many layers, brushed his teeth, and ran out the door, checking twice to make sure it was locked.

Virgil had originally had twenty minutes to make a half hour trip, and he had made it a whole minute early. He pretended to check a text on his phone so as to seem more casual while he waited for Scarlet and her boyfriend, who showed up very soon after he himself had arrived.

“Vivian!” He heard her shout. Before he could say anything, she engulfed him in another hug. He looked across her shoulder and saw Roman standing behind her, staring at him with empty eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night; his hair was a mess far from the usual perfection it was, his eyes were puffy and his face flushed. It took him a moment, but Roman recognised Virgil, and his face flashed into a happy and jovial smile, before a look of confusion struck his face. Before he could say anything, Virgil flung himself into a hug with Roman.

“Please,” he whispered in his ear, “just go along with it.” It was brief, but Virgil got the message across. Roman’s mind was whirring; wasn’t he supposed to meet his girlfriend’s friend today? He wasn’t aware that Scarlet and Virgil knew each other. As instructed, however, he went along with it. At least, he tried, but Scarlet was adamant on introducing the two to each other (she pretended to ignore the hug between them).

“Vivian, this is my boyfriend, his name is Roman, and look how cute he is! Isn’t he cute?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Virgil muttered, avoiding eye contact with both of them and instead gazing at the ground.

“Wow, look at how enthusiastic, I told you she’s a lesbian in denial! But anyway, this is my friend Vivian, she’s super nice but I’d recommend not being too intense like you _know_ you are!” She turned to Virgil and winked, biting her bottom lip. Virgil glanced at Roman, who shook his head subtly enough not to be noticed by Scarlet, but enough to make Virgil smile. While he repressed it well, seeing him like that made Roman feel better about everything.

“Can we get coffee now?” Virgil asked timidly, now fed up of hearing the word ‘lesbian’ in regards to himself. Roman opened his mouth to respond.

“Of course!” Interjected Scarlet, bounding forwards into the Starbucks and queueing up before waiting for the others.

“Virgil, what the fuck is happening?” Roman asked now that they were alone.

“I didn’t know you were the boyfriend otherwise I’d have said something!” Virgil hissed back.

“Why is she calling you Vivian? Is it some mix-up where she called you that once and you didn’t correct her and now that’s just your name? I can see you getting into that situation to be honest.”

“No, not that…” He took a deep breath. “I’m a trans guy, and Scarlet doesn’t know, so she thinks I’m a girl.”

“Wait… So, I know you as Virgil, and that’s how you identify, not how you were born, right?”

“That’s right.” They entered the shop and joined the queue, mutually and silently agreeing to lower their voices.

“Okay, I didn’t want to gender you incorrectly. Thanks for clarifying. Want me to tell her?”

“No, no way, she doesn’t need to know, it’ll be fine.”

“Guys, come on!” Called Scarlet, gesturing frantically for the two to join her.

“No way am I cutting through the line! There are three people in front of us!” Protested Roman. Begrudgingly, Scarlet strut towards them and joined them instead.

“I can’t believe you two made me lose my space.”

“Not our fault you decided to walk in here without us.” Virgil interrupted before the bickering could grow into an argument, but he laughed it off, hoping she’d be more likely to see a joke coming from himself rather than Roman. It worked; the three fell silent, but only for a moment.

“Any idea what you’re getting?” Asked Scarlet, who seemed to be silently rehearsing her order without even having looked at the menu.

“Americano.” Replied Virgil and Roman simultaneously, eliciting giggles from all three. As they approached the front of the till, Roman tapped on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Can I borrow a ten, please? I’ll pay you back, I swear.” He whispered while Scarlet made her order. “I just don’t want to ask her, and I’m completely broke.”

“No problem, buddy.” Virgil slid a ten into his hand, their fingertips brushing against each other for just a moment, and Roman tried not to linger, but it was such a softly intimate moment, not only did he linger, he reached for his hand and held it in his own. Virgil surprised himself by not reflexively pulling away. Roman released after a short moment, when he’d realised what he was doing, but it was a moment that felt like it almost lasted forever, but he felt even better for it.

Unbeknown to the two, Scarlet saw it from the corner of her eye, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to turn at them and scream.

“Oh, can you make that to go?” She asked, her chest tightening as she tried not to cry. She took her drink and proceeded to leave, only turning back to snarl at the two.

“If you weren’t a lesbian, you could have just said rather than trying to take my boyfriend.” She hissed at Virgil, before turning to Roman. “I knew I couldn’t trust you with other girls. Thanks for all the wasted time.” And then left without another word.

“Funny, if you’d told her you weren’t a lesbian she wouldn’t have trusted me with you anyway.” Roman muttered as Virgil ordered his coffee.

“She’d have presumed I was a straight girl, I don’t want that either.” He replied as he handed the cashier another ten dollar bill. He stopped. “Did you want an Americano as well?” He asked, now facing Roman.

“Yeah, why?”

“Make that two, please. Keep the change.” Fortunately, it was quiet, so their drinks were done almost instantly. They took a table and sat together, an awkward silence looking over them as Roman sipped his coffee instantly, while Virgil blew on it to cool it down first.

“I just want to say,” Started Roman, “that I would never have thought anything if it weren’t for all this.”

“I’m not upset that you know – that’s a lie, actually, but whatever – I’m more upset that you found out this way. If we’d continued as friends I probably would have told you eventually…” Virgil tried to think of what to say next. Every time Roman opened his mouth, he expected him to say something rude or ask something intrusive, but it never came.

“But that right was taken from you, wasn’t it?” Roman interjected. Something in his tone was sharp, as if he was stifling some emotion.

“Hey, don’t be mad at her for it. She didn’t know. If she did, she’d have introduced me as Virgil, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, it’s just been a lot these past few days, all this was because of something I didn’t deal with properly and now you’ve been outed for it, and it’s been rough.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” Virgil asked, sipping on his coffee to seem nonchalant, hoping that casualty would encourage him to talk.

“Remember Dee? I talked about him on Friday?” His voice shuddered and he hid his ever-reddening face in his hands, making a deliberate effort to shield his eyes.

“You mentioned him, but I don’t know him. What happened?”

“He – he just… I watched him die!” He cried, his voice breaking into a sob and his body pulsing as he cried into his own hands. His phone vibrated in his pocket, only adding to the pain. Virgil watched, helpless, as Roman broke down in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

“And do you know what his… What his last words were? They were ‘you’ll be okay, promise?’ and here I am… Here I am _fucking sobbing_ to you after being dumped by a girlfriend I never wanted and knowing something about you that I shouldn’t and being and feeling something I _definitely_ shouldn’t and… So yeah, it’s been rough.” He took a deep breath but his hands were still quivering and tears still falling. Virgil didn’t know what to do, but he could hardly bare seeing him this way. It was selfish, but he didn’t want to deal with it; he didn’t know how, and he couldn’t exactly ask Patton for advice at the moment.

“I’m really sorry, Roman. I don’t know what to say, but I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to say anything, but thank you for listening…” He sighed again, still quivering, “I don’t know. I’ve talked a lot, want to talk about yourself for a bit?”

“What about myself?”

“Anything, your favourite colour, what animals you like, be as happy or as tragic as you want to be honest.” He laughed, finally pulling his hands away. His eyes were red and puffy and his face flushed even more so than earlier. Virgil thought for a moment.

“I’ve known I was trans since I was fifteen, and came out to my parents a year later, but I asked them not to tell anyone else, and I just started introducing myself as a guy rather than trans because, you know, I don’t quite fancy getting shot for telling the wrong person.”

“How did you know?”

“Mostly because I kept thinking ‘wish I had a dick’ – and that’s how I know I’m gay, too.” He replied, a smirk crawling onto his face as he watched Roman laugh. He tried to continue, but Roman kept laughing; every time he was close to calming down, he seemed to remember it again and burst into a new fit of giggles.

“You’re gay _as well as_ trans?”

“Tell me what part of my personality made you think I was straight so that I can amend it immediately.” They locked eyes from across the table, and that was when Virgil realised two things: he may be sharing himself a little too much, and that Roman may have even more secrets.

“Straight is just the default, I guess?”

“Yeah, you’re right…” He said, thinking of what to say so that the awkward silence didn’t return. “But yeah, anyway, I don’t know how much you really know about all this, but there’s a thing called gender dysphoria that I have and it’s basically that I get really upset being identified as anything but male and my body being the way that it is, it’s a whole lot of sadness.”

“Sounds rough, especially with Scarlet not knowing and accidentally outing you…” Roman sniffed, but remained composed. “Were you really going to tell me eventually if I’d stayed your friend?”

“Maybe. You’d have figured it out sooner or later anyway.”

“What makes you think that?” He asked, astounded. He looked at him, and took it in: he looked just as much of a man as he did himself, and the thought that anyone could see him as anything else astonishing.

“A lot. My voice is higher than most guys’ even though I’m, what, eight months on testosterone now? My voice is higher, I don’t have particularly good muscle composition, and damn near everything, really.” Virgil had to stop there for he was getting too upset at himself to continue.

“I’m going to be real with you, Virgil: you are twice the man that half the guys I know are, I think your dysphoria is the only thing telling you otherwise, and it’s lying.” He gazed at Virgil, knowing he looked a mess and knowing it wasn’t a pretty sight for Virgil, but not caring, because it was a pretty sight for him; Virgil’s eyes were sparkling and round and dark, and Roman couldn’t help but stare at him lovingly. As quickly as the feelings appeared, he shook to banish them away.

“Are you okay?” Asked Virgil, bringing Roman’s attention back to reality.

“What? Yeah, great!”

“You just shook, like you physically shook.”

“Yeah, just a shiver, you know?” He started to grow nervous as he watched Virgil sip his coffee, and how gently his hands held the cup and how nice it was when he got to hold them earlier. He condemned the thoughts before they could grow any more. But then Virgil smiled, and he couldn’t deny himself anymore.

“Hey, if you’re done, do you maybe want to come back to my place? I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you, and you know… I don’t like the idea of being alone again.”

Riding the bus from the city to Roman’s house didn’t take as long as if it were from the college, but Roman wished it could take longer so he could talk to Virgil in peace. They spoke about their favourite books, and how Roman used to live with his dad and everything was fine until he lost his job and turned to alcohol and became violent, so Roman worked at the local restaurant as a waiter and charmed customers into tips so he could move out, and that he won a scholarship at the college. They talked about food, and how Virgil’s parents were both lawyers so they saved up a lot of money for his college funds so he could live alone and not have to talk to strangers and how he struggled making friends so, before Roman, his only friend was Patton, who lived hundreds of miles away.

It had been so long since Roman had had a friend at his house, he almost forgot how dangerous the streets were as a pair; there can either be safety in numbers, or there can be the lone wolf, but to walk side by side with only one other was dangerous. He constantly looked around to check for approaching strangers, knowing if he let down his guard, both he and Virgil would be in danger, especially considering the collective preconceived notions about Roman – despite his best efforts to hide it, the whole street seemed to know it. Fortunately, his endless vigilance didn’t seem to alarm Virgil, as he kept talking happily and listening peacefully, completely unaware that Roman’s concern was not unjust.

“So that’s the story of how I nearly burnt down the house while trying to cook some eggs!” Virgil concluded just as they had reached Roman’s door. As he fumbled to get the key in the lock, however, a voice shouted from across the road.

“Fags!” The voice was familiar, but that didn’t make it any less unsettling. Roman tried to think where he’d heard it before, but it wasn’t until the door was open and he’d ushered Virgil inside that he realised it was the voice from yesterday, the voice belonging to someone who had shoved and kicked and hurt him, and the voice of someone who would definitely not be content at just that.

“Damn, is everyone on your street like that?”

“Mostly, yeah.” Roman sighed. He watched as Virgil grew paler and paler practically by the second. “I’m not, though, don’t worry. I’m usually the victim, actually.”

“How? Strong and cute guy as yourself, how do you warrant any violence?” Asked Virgil. He knew as soon as he’d said it that he was inadvertently asking if he was gay or anything of the sort, but he was more relieved than anything that Roman hadn’t associated himself with the others. If he could trust that, Virgil may be safe for now. He still found it surreptitious that they hadn’t moved away from the door yet, but didn’t hasten to bring it up.

“Let’s just say that they know things about me that they shouldn’t.” He sighed sadly, expecting Virgil to ask him more, to elucidate, but he didn’t. Instead, Virgil just glanced at him, and tried not to fall for the softness in his eyes contrasting the roughness of his skin.

“Hey, what happened to your neck?” He asked, noticing a strange red graze peeking out from above the neck of his shirt.

“What… What do you mean? Where?”

“On your neck. It looks like a hickey.”

“It _isn’t_ a hickey!” Protested Roman. As soon as he had heard what he said, he knew he sounded too defensive. “Okay, that sounded like a lie, but it actually isn’t.”

“What happened?”

“Well, basically, on Friday…” He took a deep breath and shuddered again. “On Friday, I maybe or maybe did not possibly – maybe got shoved to the ground and kicked a little, but don’t look at me like that, it was okay! Nothing compared to what’s happened before, actually, so lucky me I guess… What’s that look for?” While Roman had tried to justify and lessen his pain, Virgil had nearly started to cry. He’d felt his eyes welling up with tears but refused to let them fall. After having blinked them away successfully, he had found himself smiling, but he suppressed it when Roman asked, embarrassed.

“Hey, I didn’t say stop it, it was cute, but why?” Virgil blushed again, and it was Roman’s turn to try not to smile.

“I just think it’s fascinating how different we are, and yet we have so much in common. We’re like a jigsaw puzzle, I guess, and we’re two of the pieces; we’re different, but it fits together. It works.”

“Nice metaphor, but-”

“It was a simile, actually.”

“Okay, _Logan_ ,” he teased, eliciting laughter from them both, and seeing Roman laugh after everything made Virgil laugh with delight even more, “Whatever it was, but what picture do we create? What’s the whole image comprised of us pieces?” Virgil thought for a moment before answering.

“I don’t know, but whatever it is, I like it.” They both paused, but it wasn’t an awkward silence, more like a sweet interlude that fluttered between them, rather than looming over them.

“Do you maybe want to move away from the door? I do have, like, actual chairs?”

“Oh thank fuck I was waiting for you to say that but I didn’t want to be rude.”

Nearly an hour had passed of them just talking. Roman fretted that not having a movie on in the background would be unsettling, but they talked like normal, and before long they knew each other as if they’d been friends for years. There was only one more thing Roman wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the right way to say it, he could barely accept it, but something about Virgil made him feel alive, at least enough to think about it before casting it away.

“Are you okay?” Virgil asked, interrupting Roman’s train of thought, “You look like you have something on your mind – I can leave now if you want me to – if that’s what you’re thinking, I mean?”

“No, I don’t want you to leave!” His voice was almost unnervingly desperate, but the last thing he wanted was to be left alone.

“Roman-”

“I’m gay.” And all fell silent, save for the hum of electricity that suddenly seemed to infest Roman’s mind. He wanted to stop it, to rip out the anxiety itself from beneath his skin, but he was still. “Just thought you should know…” He sniffed, a few tears falling from his eyes, tears that he didn’t even know had formed.

“Thank you for trusting me with that. I bet it took a lot for you to say.”

“It did. I bet you’re wondering why I was with Scarlet, right?”

“I was thinking it but I didn’t want to say it.”

“Yeah, well, almost everyone in my life has been a bit of a homophobe so I sort of had those views indoctrinated and so when I would look at a guy and be like ‘cute’, I’d feel all disgusted and whatever, but the biggest reason was that I thought if the people in the street could see me with a woman, they’d leave me alone… They didn’t.”

“So that’s what they know about you that they shouldn’t.”

“They knew it before I had accepted it. It’s only today, only now, that I can accept it. I’ve never said it out loud before.”

“Hey,” Virgil moved closer to him, shuffling along the couch and turning to face him directly, “you don’t need to flinch or squirm away from it. You don’t need to deny or hide it. You’re everything you need to be, and you’re perfect as you are.”

“I want you to know, though, that you’re the reason I can even think about it and not feel disgusted at myself. It’s because of you.” He trembled as he spoke, but he wasn’t scared. If anything, he was just relieved. Virgil, seeing this, shuffled even closer and took his hand, and it was just like the line in Starbucks all over again; the elation of such soft affection, but coupled with the new-found safety of being alone in Roman’s living room, it would be perfect, if Roman’s mind wasn’t troubled with the gruff and gravelly voice of his attacker echoing the slurs that had been thrown at him. He shoved this voice away, and smiled with the acknowledgement that he could cast _that_ thought away now, rather than anything regarding himself, and, specifically, anything regarding Virgil. He felt free. He let go of Virgil’s hand, but rather than flinching away and hiding, he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and pulled him towards him.

“Fuck, I really needed this.” Muttered Virgil. His college life thus far had been cold and desolate, but he found solace in Roman’s warmth.

“We’re both just touch-starved gays.” Roman replied in the same tone. Virgil laughed, leaning into Roman’s shoulder.

“It feels good to say it out loud, doesn’t it? Gay.”

“It does now.” He smiled as he watched how Virgil’s eyelashes flutter when he blinked, and how he smiled with his eyes, and how he always fumbled with the hem of his shirt or his thumbs. All fell quiet.

“It’s liberating.”

“Can I kiss you?” Roman asked suddenly. The thought was very much out of the blue, but it appeared suddenly and he couldn’t push it aside.

“Only if I can kiss you back.”

They kissed for a while, and they were content with just that, and just each other. Everything was fine.

“Want to watch a movie or something?” Asked Roman when he got a spare breath.

“Is that you’re way of saying Netflix and Chill?”

“No,” he laughed, blushing, “I just like movies, and it would be a fun first date, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t agree more, actually. Is there a store nearby we could go to for snacks?” Virgil, as much as he enjoyed kissing Roman, was thankful that he’d implied he didn’t want to go any further; he wasn’t ready for any more, and if Roman did want more, at least if they got snacks, they might put him off for a bit.

“You want snacks?”

“Only if you do.” He said tentatively. He noticed Roman rubbing his wrists, and how he had practically folded in on himself. Roman, not wanting to be surreptitious, acquiesced despite his nerves.

Out the door, Roman scanned around in search for someone who could pose as a threat, but found none.

“I don’t know this area well, so you’re kind of going to have to lead the way.” Said Virgil, also looking around.

“This way.” He took Virgil’s hand and led him to the store via the route he knew was the least dangerous (still not safe by any means, but not as bad as almost everywhere else). Once he’d realised what he was doing, he dropped it again. Virgil, despite knowing why he couldn’t, found himself disappointed that he couldn’t hold his hand. Instead, he resorted to holding his own.

“Do you still have that ten I gave you in Starbucks? Use that and then you don’t have to pay it back.” He said so as to keep the eerie silence at bay.

“Yeah, I should do.” Roman’s voice was quiet and his eyes focussed. He heard footsteps from in front of him approaching, footsteps that couldn’t be his or Virgil’s.

“And stay close, please.”

“Yeah!” Bellowed a voice – not the same as what Roman was used to, but threatening nonetheless. “I _bet_ you want him to stay close, fag!”

“Don’t worry, Virgil, this happens, it’s okay.” He whispered, noticing how quickly he’d turned white, and how heavily his hands were shaking and his knees wobbling. “Just keep walking.” Roman searched frantically for the owner of the voice as they walked, but the streets served nothing but empty path, void of any obvious threat, but Roman’s mind was bursting with fear. Virgil tried to look ahead, trusting that Roman was right to tell him not to worry. He took deep breaths, but the way that Roman’s eyes were whipping around in search for something Virgil didn’t know disconcerted him. They turned a corner, Roman first, and stopped; a pool of dark crimson stained the concrete, and Roman remembered Dee. He felt the promise he made on his finger, and saw his eyes brimming with tears all over again.

“Are you okay? You’ve gone white.” Virgil asked.

“So have you,” he joked, “I guess it’s just the temperature, or maybe the light? I don’t know!” Suddenly, a loud bang ruptured the air, and the two stayed frozen to the spot.

“What was that?” Asked Virgil, his voice not only breaking, but on the verge of shattering. He’d only gone non-verbal once before (when he was on call with Patton, in the midst of a panic attack when he was first thinking about coming out to his family), but knew it could happen again.

“Either a gun or a firework, and I’m amazed at which of those is legal here.”

“Not breaking any law just by having _this_ , am I?” Came the same voice, turning the corner from a hidden alleyway, with a gun in his right hand and finger on the trigger. He was tall, far taller than Virgil and even Roman, and wore a buzz-cut that had been poorly dyed black. Virgil kept his eyes focussed towards the ground out of fear, but Roman examined him vigorously: small bruises dotted across each forearm arm with prominent veins protruding; a bruise on his left bicep; a black eye; and a cut across his right cheek. Such a stereotypical drug dealer, such a terrifying sight.

“We don’t want any trouble-”

“Can’t be wanting no trouble and then walk around these streets a fag. Fucking freak.” He spat. Roman tried to move past him, grabbing Virgil – not by his hand like he so desperately wanted – but by the sleeve of his hoodie. As diplomatic as Roman tried to be, the beast in front of them would never pass up the chance to inflict such pain. He shoved Roman to the ground, which he had recently become so familiar with, kicked him in the stomach, and then turned to Virgil, who raised his hands in defence but to no avail; not only did he also get shoved to the ground and smack the back of his head against the concrete, he pulled out a gun and shot him in the shoulder. He didn’t see it, but upon hearing the echoic bang, Roman shot up off the ground and his eyes instinctively fell upon Virgil sprawled out across the street twitching, with blood spilling out from his left shoulder. Roman felt his blood run cold, and his emotions fall empty. He turned to the monster, enraged. He aimed his gun right at Roman’s chest. He started to wrap his finger around the trigger.

“Not today, bitch!” Roman bellowed. He punched him before he could make another move, knocking him down like how Virgil had been.

“Roman, strike the neck, the side.” Whimpered Virgil from behind him, almost inaudibly. As the monster got back up, Roman obeyed and, as if a violent being had possessed him, struck him at the side of the neck. He toppled for a moment, turned a pale white, and blinked heavily. Not wanting to take chances, Roman punched him again around the eye. He fell, unconscious, leaving Roman to tend to the most important matter.

“Virgil! Not you as well, I can’t take it.” He wept, pressing his forehead against Virgil’s and cupping his head in his hand.

“It’s just the shoulder. I’ll live, but if you could call an ambulance, that’d help.”

“Oh, an ambulance, yeah.” He fumbled in his pocket for his phone before ringing. It rang for a few moments, a few agonising moments, as Virgil continued to twitch and Roman watched helplessly.

“Hello? My friend just got shot, we’re on the corner of Sanders Street. Five minutes? For real? Okay, thanks I guess. Bye.”

“So you kiss me for all that time and then you call me a friend?” He smiled, before wincing in pain.

“Oh, shut up, after this I don’t exactly want to announce anything over the phone, you know you’re more than that, you know you’re more than anything I’ve ever had before.”

“Yeah, I know. The only problem with us as a thing is that I now have to go back to saying I have one friend.”

“Oh, what a tragedy, if only you had a handsome and strong and clever boyfriend as well.”

“Not clever enough to read the chapter.” Virgil teased, smiling so brightly, it was almost as if he was okay.

“As if me not reading the chapter isn’t what got us here, and is therefore one of the best things to happen to either us.”

“Here, as in me lying here with a bullet in my shoulder and you crying on me?” He laughed. Every emotion rushed through Roman at once, but seeing Virgil laugh at such a time as this was almost bittersweet.

“Stop making yourself laugh, you’re just hurting yourself.” Roman said. He watched as Virgil’s smile dropped and his eyes filled with tears. The twitching and quivering became almost grotesque, but Roman couldn’t leave him or look away.

“I just… If things end badly here, I don’t want your last memories of me to be full of sadness.”

“Don’t say that, don’t even think it, the ambulance is on its way, you’ll be fine, we’ll get our happy ending, don’t worry about it. Can’t you hear the sirens? They’re coming right now as we speak.” And the sirens were indeed approaching, every second they grew closer and louder, and the sound of them, although loud and invasive to Virgil who had an endless abyss of loud thoughts in his mind, was like the voices of angels themselves. He wasn’t sure what they sounded like, but it was salvation nonetheless.

“Can you come closer?” He asked, for every exertion of his body was excruciating. As Roman leaned in closer as requested, Virgil kissed him again. It was quick, he needed to keep breathing, but at least he got to kiss Roman one last time.

“Don’t you dare let that be the last time.” Roman said as the ambulance arrived. Three people rushed out the doors with a table. With speed and care, they placed Virgil onto it and wheeled him into the ambulance.

“Can my friend come, too?” He asked meekly. The medics took a glance before acquiescing. Before he could be put under anaesthetic, Roman looked at him, smiled sweetly, before taunting him:

“Oh, we go through all this and then you call me a friend?”

When Virgil woke up later in the hospital after an unknown amount of time, he felt a strange and heavy lump on his lap. He looked to see Roman resting his head there, with his eyes closed and his breathing soft and light.

“Hey buddy.” He nudged, reaching to play with his hair, twisting a coil around his fingers. “Wake up.”

“Virgil? You’re awake!” He exclaimed, trying not to cry from sheer glee. His hair was a mess, sticking out at all angles (not even due to Virgil’s playing), he was pale but his eyes were puffy, and dark pools of purple surrounded them.

“You look like shit.” He said, his eyes still droopy.

“You got shot, my guy, I don’t think I’m the one looking worse of the two of us.”

“Oh yeah,” he muttered, remembering what had happened the last time he’d been awake, “do you have my phone? How long has it been? What’s the prognosis?”

“Hey, chill out: I have your phone, here you go; it all happened just yesterday, and you’re going to be okay. Who are you texting?”

“Oh fuck.” Virgil had six missed calls from Patton, and four messages.

“What’s up?”

“Patton’s mad at me for not messaging him, listen: ‘hey Virgil, did everything go okay?’ referring to meeting with Scarlet; ‘okay, I thought you were joking when you talked about getting shot but you’re worrying me – just kidding, I trust you!’ well, he’s got a nice surprise; ‘have you been talking to Roman again? I get you want to make a new friend and all that but you can’t just neglect me in the process, are you going to live your whole life just dedicated to one person and then throw them away when someone new comes along?’ so he’s clearly starting to get mad, and now ‘whatever. I’m done waiting. I can actually make more than one friend at a time, so have fun with Roman while you can’. Well, what do I do now?”

“Message him back and explain what happened? He can’t be mad at you once you explain… All of this.”

“He can, though,” Virgil sighed, “and he would. I can imagine it now, ‘so you got Roman with you the whole time and didn’t message me?’ it would be a mess. I’ll think of something later. For now…”

“For now?”

“For now, I just want to be with you. Come here.” It was slow, and quite breathless for Virgil, but the kiss was far needed. “I couldn’t ever leave you, with the last one being when it was. We’re okay.”

“Thank you,” said Roman, “for everything you’ve given to me. I…” He paused.

“It’s okay, say it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. It makes my heart hurt.”

“In your state, I don’t think it’s me doing that.” Roman giggled, making Virgil laugh.

“Oh, so you can make jokes to make me laugh, but I can’t?”

“Of course _I_ can, I’m hilarious!”

“Yeah, I think it’s particularly funny how you didn’t read the chapter.”


End file.
